


my heart will go on

by the_aaliyah_rose_black



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016), Titanic (1997)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bittersweet Ending, Eleven | Jane Hopper and Mike Wheeler in Love, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I've had this idea since I watched Titanic for the first time, Inspired by Titanic, Love Story, Mike Wheeler Loves Eleven | Jane Hopper, Mike and El take the spot of Jack and Rose, Minor Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Sad Mike Wheeler, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:54:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28753227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_aaliyah_rose_black/pseuds/the_aaliyah_rose_black
Summary: In 1912, Mike Wheeler finds himself engaged to a woman he doesn't love - and she doesn't love him - and boarding the RMS Titanic, declared unsinkable by everyone. Feeling trapped and suffocated in a life he does not want, Mike finds himself on the back stern of the ship on the second night, staring down at the depths below. Until she came...Eleanor Hopper was a spirited girl, finding herself in England with her best friend, Will Byers, making a living for both herself and him by selling their drawings, both of them wanting to go to America in hopes of a better life and to see the world. Winning their tickets, she and Will found themselves on the ship of dreams, and on the first night, El meeting a beautiful but sad-looking boy named Mike on the stern of the ship, quickly learning that he feels trapped.A bizarre concept to her, but she was willing to listen. As both Mike and El find themselves in a whirlwind romance, can their new love survive the tragedy that's about to befall them?
Relationships: Dustin Henderson & Will Byers, Eleven | Jane Hopper & Jim "Chief" Hopper, Eleven | Jane Hopper/Mike Wheeler, Holly Wheeler & Mike Wheeler, Jonathan Byers & Will Byers, Joyce Byers & Will Byers, Lucas Sinclair & Dustin Henderson & Will Byers, Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Mike Wheeler, Mike Wheeler & Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington & Mike Wheeler, Will Byers & Eleven | Jane Hopper
Comments: 11
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to this new fic that I had been planning ever since winter break back in December! I love Titanic and I love Stranger Things, along with Mileven, so I combined the two! Also, Mike and El will not be their ages in the show, instead nineteen and eighteen respectively. Max and Lucas will be a background ship in this story too! Since Holly is obviously older, her fancast is going to be a young!Elle Fanning!

**_April 10th, 1912_ **

Something about boats and ships had always fascinated Mike, and when he was a boy, he longed to be a sailor, sailing the open seas. His parents, of course, didn't want him doing that, they couldn't have their male heir sailing instead of going into business, like his father. But, instead of feeling gleeful and merry as he looked out the small car window, he instead felt cold and dreary. He knew he was lucky to be traveling to America on the Grandest Ship in the World, but he knew what lied ahead of him once they docked in New York City.

" - ike? Michael? Are you even listening to me?" his father's sharp voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he turned his head away from the window, hiding a wince as Maxine, or Max Mayfield nudged him in the side. 

"Yes, Father," he responded, and his father, Ted Wheeler, nodded, though he still looked annoyed with him, as he turned away to look at the front. Mike swallowed as he turned his head to see his fiancèe, Maxine Mayfield, sitting beside him. Her hands clenched neatly in her lap on top of the white and pink dress she was wearing. Max (as she requested him to call her) was not happy with this marriage either, but they had to get married, to secure the fiance of both the Wheeler and Hargrove/Mayfield families. As much as they didn't want to, they couldn't stop it. 

A hot flash of pain brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked down, seeing that he had been clenching his fists, digging his nails into his palms. A white-gloved hand on his made him look up, seeing that Max was separating his fisted hands while staring straight ahead before turning toward him, her blue eyes meeting his brown eyes with a stare. 

Now, the two acted like they were in love in public, but when they were by themselves, they acted like this. It had been six months, and Mike didn't feel any love for the heir to the Mayfield/Hargrove fortune. And he knew that Max didn't love him either. 

This was just a game in their family's eyes. 

The car came to a sudden stop and Mike could hear the sounds of a busy port outside: a ship horn blowing, cheering, and yelling, the sound of British porters instructing the crowd to follow him or go to a different area of the ship. The door opened and he stepped out of the car, the bright, April sunlight hitting him and he squinted before turning around to help Max out of the car after him. 

Her giant white hat hid most of her face from view, but he could still see her eyes taking sight of the monster of a ship in front of them. 

"I don't see what all the fuss is about," Mike stated, the ship looking exactly like any of the other ships he had seen, maybe just a little bit bigger. "It doesn't look any bigger than the _Mauretania."_

Max rolled her eyes, despite her mother telling her not to do so. "You can be blase about some things, Mike, but not about _Titanic._ I think it's over a hundred feet longer than _Mauretania,_ and I've heard that it's _far_ more luxurious."

"Sorry about him, Maxine, Susan," Ted Wheeler apologized as she stepped out of the car with the help of the servant she had hired to keep an eye on both Max and Mike. His name was Steve Harrington, the son of the wealthy Harrington family, but his parents were long dead by now, and Steve now worked for the Wheeler family. "My son's far too difficult to impress." 

Susan Mayfield, Max's mother, stepped out of the car with help of the driver as well. She and Max looked a lot alike, with the same face shape and the same fiery red hair, but instead of blue eyes, Susan had hazel eyes.

"It's quite alright, Ted," Susan laughed off as she came to stand behind Max, placing a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "So this is the ship they say is unsinkable."

"It is unsinkable," Ted declared, "God himself could sink this ship - what?" 

Mike turned to see that a porter was now standing next to his father, reminding him that they had to check their baggage. Instead of complying, his father just looked somewhat annoyed, he took five pounds out of his pant's pocket and slammed them into the porter's hand. 

"I put my faith in you, good sir, now kindly see my man," Ted gestured toward Steve, who stepped forward, tapping the porter on the shoulder and leading him to the back of the cars, where all their luggage was stacked on the back of the cars. 

"Ladies, son, we better hurry," Ted said, harshly clapping Mike on the shoulder and leading him forward, Max linking his arm through his. The April sunshine shined on his back and on his black hair as he walked up the first-class ramp, glancing up on the _Titanic,_ he felt as though he was going to his own grave.

**-**

The pub across the street was tense. 

Four people sat around a table at a poker game. Sven and Olaf, two Swedish immigrants, and two Americans, Eleanor Hopper and Will Byers. Poker cars surrounded them along with coins and in the center, two third-class tickets to the _Titanic._

Eleanor, or El as she preferred to be called, sat at the head of the table, a lit cigarette in her mouth. Her brown hair which landed on right her shoulders was tucked behind her ears, and her eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. 

"El, you are betting everything we have," Will Byers, stated nervously, the hat on his head hiding his overgrown bowl cut. El turned to her best friend, taking her cigarette out of her mouth and blowing out the smoke, leaning forward.

"When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose," she stated simply, leaning back as they traded cards. Will and Olaf both put down nothing, while both she and Sven had a two-pair.

El turned toward Will, who was waiting anxiously, though he was trying to hide it. "I'm sorry, Will."

"Sorry? You bet all our money, El -"

"Because we're going to America!" El exclaimed, placing her two cards on the table and slamming her first down, putting out her cigarette. Will beamed and took the tickets that were in the center of the table, El leaning forward to collect the rest of the coins. 

As she was, she turned to see that Olaf had grabbed Will by the jacket and had a clenched fist in his other hand. El's eyes widened, thinking that she was going to have to break up a fight, only for Olaf to punch Sven instead, letting go of Will, who snorted quietly. 

"Did you get the tickets?" El asked with a beam and Will nodded, smiling even wider. 

"We're going home!" he exclaimed, raising his hand to show her the tickets. "We're going back to America!" He did a small happy dance and El let a giggle escape her, hugging her best friend tightly. 

"No, mate," the pub owner interrupted, causing both El and Will to break apart, their expressions falling. " _Titanic_ goes to America, in five minutes." He gestured to the clock on the wall. 

El's brown eyes widened. "Shit, Will. Come on, we gotta go," she panicked slightly as they collected the rest of their money into their bags before running out of the pub. 

"We're the luckiest son of bitches in the world, you know that, El?" Will exclaimed happily as they ran through the crowd to the third-class entrance of the ship.

"But I won the tickets for us, Will!" she retorted back, causing Will to chuckle as they continued running, El pushing aside a porter who was going to roll up the passenger ramp. "Wait, we're passengers!" Both she and Will came to a stop in front of a man, who she guessed to be an officer, both panting from running so fast, holding out the tickets they had won. 

"Have you been through the inspection queue?" Sixth Officer James Moody asked, looking down at the tickets and then up at them. 

"Of course, anyway we don't have any lice, we're Americans, both of us," Will easily lied. 

Sixth Officer Moody nodded, "right, come abroad." He held out his hand and made sure that El or Will didn't fall into the water before closing the door behind him.

"We're the luckiest son of bitches in the world, you know that?" El repeated her best friend's earlier words as he chuckled, the two jumping up and down like they had just received the Christmas or Birthday gift they always wanted. Will grabbed her hand, leading both of them up the top deck, where most of the other passengers were waving to their loved ones still on the deck. 

"Goodbye! I'll miss you!" El yelled out, waving as she stepped onto one of the railings since she was shorter than Will. 

"You know somebody?" Will teased, smirking. 

"Of course not, but that's not the point!" she retorted back in the same teasing tone before turning and waving again. "I'll miss you!"

"Goodbye!" Will yelled as well, playing along with her, "I will never forget you!" 

El smiled as the ship moved out of port, still waving and yelling. She felt like she was on top of the world, on the Grandest Ship in the World, The Ship of Dreams. She was going back home. 

What could go wrong?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> second chapter! thank you guys for all the kind comments, it really means a lot to me! this chapter will be longer than the first, so that's a small warning.
> 
> also, there are trigger warnings in this, such as panic attacks, attempted suicide, (if you know the scene that i'm talking about) descriptions/mentions of self-harm, abuse, and if any of that triggers you, please be careful! i don't want any harm to come to any of you by reading my stories!
> 
> i'm really exicted for this chapter, especially the "take her to sea, mr. murdoch" part because that's my second favorite scene in the whole movie, and i won't tell you my first until later! i just love this scene, how beautiful and invincible titanic looks, the officers (particularly murdoch and moody), the music, the engines, ugh, i just love it!

**_ April 10th, 1912 _ **

The rooms his father had purchased were far too luxurious for Mike's taste. Everything about the furniture, the bedrooms, the fireplace, just everything screamed, "I'm rich, and I'm going to show it off!" 

Currently, his father was drinking champagne on the promenade deck, Max and Susan were in Max's room, and Steve was helping Mike unload some paintings that he had purchased. See, unlike his father and Max, he had an art appreciation and loved wandering the art museums by himself in Paris and in London. 

"Is this the one?" Steve asked, taking out Monet's Lily Pads. 

"No, it had a lot of faces on," he replied, searching through one of the crates, a small smile forming on his face as he found the painting he was looking for, and he pulled it out. "This is the one."

It was an abstract painting that was made by Pablo Picasso. He had painted a lot of faces over one another, and something about it Mike liked.

"Would you like all of them out, sir?" Steve asked. 

"Yes, we need some life in this room," he replied as he turned to look at Steve, who smiled at him and nodded, taking out the rest of the paintings. 

"God, not those paintings again, Mike," Max groaned from a few feet away, and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Ever since he had told her that he enjoyed Picasso's work, she had been nagging him about it ever since. 

"The difference between Max's taste in art and mine is that I have some," Mike quipped, "they're fascinating. It's like being in a dream, there's truth but no logic." 

"What's the artist's name?" Steve asked. 

"Pablo Picasso," he replied back. 

"'Pablo Picasso,'" Ted drawled as he walked inside the room, still drinking his champagne, "he won't amount to a thing. He won't, trust me. At least they were cheap."

Mike rolled his eyes, "Let's put the Degas in the bedroom," he told Steve, holding a painting of a blonde ballerina, who nodded and followed him into his bedroom. 

Degas was another one of his favorite artists. He painted a lot of ballerinas and dancing scenes, which reminded him of his younger sister, Holly. He watched as Steve helped him hang the painting so that it was right in front of his desk, and he smiled a bittersweet smile. 

"There, that looks good."

_ At Cherbourg, a woman came abroad named Margret Brown, but we all called her Molly. History would call her the "Unsinkable Molly Brown." Her husband had struck gold somewhere out west, and Mike found himself getting annoyed whenever his father or Susan called her "new money."  _

** - **

**_ April 11th, 1912 _ **

By the next afternoon, they were steaming west from the coast of Ireland, with nothing out ahead of them but the deep, blue ocean. El had dragged Will toward the front bow of the ship, claiming that both of them could get the best inspirations for their drawings up there. Her best friend eventually agreed, following her as she ran excitedly. 

"Are you even sure that we're allowed to be up here?" Will asked her as they ran, well, El running.

She rolled her eyes, turning around to face him. He was squinting from the sunlight, and it reflected on his pale skin and the small freckles dotting his nose. "Yes, the gate's open. We're gonna be  _ fine."  _

Will chuckled and rolled his eyes at her, following El as they ran to the very front, grabbing onto the railings and ropes for support. 

The ocean breeze blew through her short, brown hair, and the sun made her back and neck feel warm, but not in a hot, sticky way. She watched with a smile as the ship gained speed, making small ripples on the water's surface. 

"Hey, Will, look!" El gasped to her best friend, nudging him carefully so that he didn't go overboard. Will followed her gaze as dolphins jumped out of the water, before splashing back down again. "See it?" A wide smile formed on her face as she looked down at the dolphins, watching them splash alongside the bow. "There's another one, see them?" 

"I see them, El, calm down," Will chuckled, amusement in his tone, but she could tell that he was smiling.

She ignored his teasing, her smile widening as she saw more and more dolphins join the first two, now splashing in and out of the water in perfect unity. "Look at them, look at them jump! Woah!" She climbed onto the railing, her right arm looped around the railing and ropes for support.

"I can the Statue of Liberty already, very small, of course," Will joked, causing her to chuckle.

She felt invincible, just like the mighty ship. With the breeze blowing through her hair and the sunlight on her face, she stood fully on the railing, unlooping her arm, and shouting, "I'M THE QUEEN OF THE WORLD!" 

She could hear Will laughing hysterically at her, and his arm trying to pull her back. 

"El, one strong gust of wind, and you'll fall right into that water," he tried to warn her, even though he was laughing. 

"Come on, Byers, try it!" El chuckled, pulling her best friend up onto the railing with her. One gust of wind almost blew his hat right off his head, and he held onto it with one hand while the other held onto the railing. 

** - **

Bruce Ismay had to be one of the most arrogant people Mike had ever met, and knowing his father, that was saying something. He sat with Max, his father, and Susan at the first-class lunchroom, with Molly Brown and Mr. Thomas Andrews, who had built the ship. But, unlike Bruce Ismay, he was rather kind and humble. 

"She is the largest moving object made ever made by the hand of man in  _ all _ history," Ismay was saying, and Mike didn't want to be here, but he masked it well, "and our master shipbuilder, Mr. Andrews here designed her from the keel plates up."

Mr. Andrews, who Mike could tell that he disliked all the attention replied with an Irish accent, "well, I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr. Ismay's. He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale and so luxurious in its appointments that its supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is," he tapped the table twice, "willed into solid reality."

Mike, already bored with the conversation, took one of his father's formal-looking cigarettes, lit the end of it with a match, blowing out the match before taking a breath of the smoke. He knew that smoking was bad for him, but he didn't do it often. 

"You know I don't like that, Michael," his father told him, and Mike, in relation, blew the smoke he had just inhaled in his father's face. Annoyed, his father took the cigarette from him and stuffed it out on one of the small, glass bowls on the table. 

"And for you, sir?" a waiter, who had been walking around asking for their orders, asked Ted.

"We'll both have lamb, rare with very little mint sauce," Ted answered for both of them, and Mike felt his nails dig into his palms as he placed his hands down in his lap, hoping nobody saw. But Mr. Andrews did, and his eyebrow furrowed in worry. "You like lamb right, son?" He sent his father a sarcastic smile, before looking down at his nails, which had blood coating the tops. 

He normally never dug his nails far in enough to break through the skin, but now he did. He hid back a wince as he flexed his hands, rubbing his bleeding palms on his black pants, hoping that nobody noticed. Mr. Andrews looked at him with worry in his eyes, that he masked when Molly asked Ismay a question.

"Hey, uh, who thought of the name  _ Titanic?"  _ She turned toward Ismay. "Was it you, Bruce?"

"Well, yes actually," Ismay replied. "I wanted to convey sheer size, and size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength." 

Mike was getting more and more annoyed with the head chairman of the White Star Line at every minute, and Max shared the same thoughts.

"Do you know of Dr. Feud, Mr. Ismay?" she asked, and he knew what was going to happen. "His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you."

Mike hid a smile and a snort, Max reminding him of his older sister, Nancy, all while looking around the table to see everyone's reaction. While his father and Susan looked mortified, Molly let out a silent impressed chuckle, and Mr. Andrews was holding back laughs. 

"What's gotten into you?" Susan asked Max.

"Excuse me," Max placed her napkin back on the table and pushed her chair back, walking out of the lunchroom.

"Now, Michael, why are you smirking like that?" Ted asked. 

Mike turned his head to face his father. "She's technically right." His father narrowed his eyes at him and before he could say anything, he pushed back his chair and got up as well, placing his napkin back on the table. "I need some air, excuse me." 

The ocean breeze hit him in the face as he walked out onto the first-class deck, facing the stern. He turned his head to see Max on the other side, but he didn't go talk to her. She was her own person and could say what she wanted to say. 

He rested his arms on the railing, his hands clenching in front of him. He turned his head to see that a person was watching him from down on the stern deck, and he locked eyes with a girl.

The girl was watching him carefully, but she seemed to be considering something, her strong gaze. She had short brown hair that was fell right on her shoulders, and was sitting with a boy and someone else. He turned away first, before looking back, something about this girl entrancing him. 

He snapped out of his daze when footsteps were heard from behind him, and he turned his head when someone gripped his arm.

"What was that back there?" Ted asked when he turned around.

Mike fought his way out of his father's tight grip, wincing from the pressure his father had on his arm. "Oh, I'm sorry,  _ Father," _ he replied, sarcastically before he started walking back to the lunch-room.

** - **

**_ That night: _ **

_ "That is no way to talk to me, son!" Ted Wheeler hissed as Mike leaned against the door to his room. "And you should tell Maxine off for saying that to a respectable person like Mr. Ismay!"  _

_ "What am I, her father?" he replied, fear clenching his chest as he saw his father clench his fist. "She's her own person, I don't own or control her!"  _

_ He winced as he felt his father slap his cheek. He held up his hand to his burning, stinging cheek, clenching his eyes shut when he heard Ted walk further from him, letting out an angry sigh before leaving the room.  _

_ His eyes burned, and Mike felt shame rise through him. Why the hell was he crying about this? In his father's words, young men shouldn't cry, and only little boys do that. He couldn't remember the last time he really cried. _

_ "Mike?" a kind and quiet voice asked, and he looked up, seeing Steve standing in front of him, a concerned look in his brown eyes.  _

_ "Can you cover this?" he asked in a quiet, meek voice, cursing at himself internally as soon as the words left his mouth. "Please?" Steve nodded, patting his shoulder once before leaving the room. _

All he heard was the sounds of people chattering, violin and piano music playing, the sound of champagne glasses chiming against one another. Everything felt so  _ fake,  _ and Mike hated it. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream until his throat bled, he didn't want to be here.

Clenching his fists once more, the familiar hot flash of pain hit him, but he kept clenching. He wanted to keep on clenching his fists until he felt the hot, sticky blood on his nails, which he did in a minute. Looking down, he saw dark blood covering the tops of his nails, and he looked back up, smiling falsely whenever someone asked him something. 

When dinner and dessert were over, and the adults went to the smoking-room to play cards and smoke, Mike excused himself as calmly as he could and started to walk back to the suite. He bumped right into Mr. Andrews on the way back, who asked him if he was alright, and Mike responded with a lie, saying that he was alright. The shipbuilder nodded, and he could tell that he didn't believe him. 

Mike locked the door behind him as he entered his bedroom, taking off his coat and running his hands through his hair, his breathing picking up when he felt like he couldn't, his heart starting to pound against his ribcage.

"Steve?" he asked. "Steve?" No response came. 

He walked over to the desk and the mirror that was next to it, his breathing coming in harsh gasps as he tried to untie his tie, growing even more frustrated when he couldn't. 

He yanked at the tie around his neck, nails unknowingly scratching at his neck. With a fit of anger, he pushed the books and the quills off of the desk, causing them to land with a clump on the ground. He kicked the desk chair over and pulled at his hair, tears burning his eyes. 

He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take the parties, the fake dinners, the false smiles, the snobbish people, everything. He needed  _ out! _

Mike took one glance at himself in the mirror before bolting. 

** - **

The cool night breeze blew through El's hair as he laid on a bench at the stern, a cigarette in her hands. The stars shone above her, and she could name some of them.  _ Aries, Ursa Major, Leo... _

Her thoughts drifted away from the stars to the mysterious boy she had seen earlier that evening. He was tall, with black curly hair that was gelled back, but something about him intrigued her. He seemed sad, desolate, like he was a forgotten character in a romance novel or in a painting. 

She exhaled the smoke, shivering slightly as an extra-cool breeze blew through her. 

The sound of running footsteps made El look up. She sat up on the bench, her eyebrows furrowing when she saw whoever was running. It was the young man she had seen earlier, only it looked and sounded like he was crying...

Curiosity and slight worry took over her as she stood up, taking one final drag of her cigarette before following the boy. To her great shock, she saw that he was climbing over the stern rail.

"Don't do it," she spoke out, her voice determined once she saw that he climbed fully over.

He turned his head to face him, his hands gripping the rail. "Stay back! Don't come any closer!" 

But El didn't listen, instead responding, "come on, just give me your hand, I'll pull you back over."

"No, stay where you are! I mean it, I'll let go," he responded. 

_ Shit,  _ El thought as she looked at the boy's red-rimmed eyes and pale skin, with a slight bruise covering his cheek. Taking a few hesitant steps forward, she held one of her hands out, before throwing her cigarette into the ocean. "No, you won't." 

"What do you mean, 'no I won't'?" Don't presume to tell me what I will or will not do, you don't know me!" he snapped defensively, though El could see past his facade. 

"Well, you would've done it already," she replied back with a small shrug.

"You're distracting me, go away!" 

"I can't. I'm involved now." El then began taking off her coat, placing it on the floor, "you let go and I'm gonna have to jump in there after you." She then began untying her boots. 

"Don't be absurd, you'll be killed," he replied. 

"I'm a good swimmer." 

"The fall alone would kill you," he rationalized.

"It would hurt, I'm not saying it wouldn't," El told him as she finished untying her boots. "Tell you the truth, I'm a lot more concerned about that water being so cold."

The boy (who couldn't be a day older than nineteen or twenty) looked down at the water, his black curls blowing in front of his face, and for the first time, he looked like he was really thinking about what he wanted to do. "How cold?"

"Freezing, maybe a couple of degrees over," she answered him as she brushed her hair out of her forward. When he didn't respond, El started talking, "you ever, uh, you ever been to Indiana?" 

He now looked confused as he looked at her. "What?"

"Well, they have some of the coldest winters around. I grew up there, near Hawkins. I remember when I was a kid," El started to explain, remembering an event that happened when she was either eleven or twelve, "me and my father, went ice fishing in one of the small lakes they had there. Ice fishing is when -"

"I know what ice fishing is!" he snapped, sounding slightly annoyed. 

"Sorry, you just seem like kind of an indoor boy," El responded, looking over his fancy-looking clothes. "Anyway, I fell through some thin ice. And I'm telling you, water that cold, like right down there? It hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body. You can't breathe, you can't think, least not about anything but the pain. Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in there after ya." She walked forward toward him, who was looking down at the water then back at her. "I guess I'm kind of hoping you'll come back over the rail and let me off the hook here."

"You're crazy!"

"That's what everybody says, but with all due respect, sir, I'm not the one hanging off the back of the ship here," El retorted back, holding out her hand for him to take, "come on, come on, give me your hand. You don't want to do this."

Slowly but surely, his shaking hand clasped in his, and he stepped around facing her. 

"I'm El Hopper," she introduced herself.

"Mike Wheeler," he greeted back with a shaking voice and breathing.

"I'm going to have to get you to write that one down," she joked, and Mike laughed, a small laugh, but still a laugh nevertheless. "Come on." 

With her help, Mike then began to climb over the railing, but he slipped when he misplaced his left foot on the railing, letting out a yell as he fell, still gripping El's hand. 

"I've got you, come on, come on!" she tried to tell him over the sound of the ocean, but Mike's hands misplaced on the railing, and he slipped again. 

"Help, please! Help please!" Mike was yelling, and surely somebody would come help. They locked eyes and El could see the pure terror in his eyes. 

"Listen to me, listen to me, I've got you, I won't let go. Now, pull yourself up, come on!" With her reassurance and effort on both of their parts, Mike managed to pull himself up and fall onto the deck, El on top of him.

Upon the top decks, two officers had heard the screaming. The two officers, Second Officer Charles Lightoller and Sixth Officer James Moody, who were on watch that night, shared looks as they heard the cries for help from a male voice. Running down, they saw a second or third class girl over a first-class boy.

"What's going on?" Moody asked, turning toward Lightoller, who saw the bruise hidden by makeup on Mike's cheek. 

"Mr. Moody, fetch Mr. Wheeler and the Master at Arms," Lightoller commanded, and Moody nodded, before running to do what he said. 

Lightoller walked over, El stepping back and Mike staying on the deck floor, his heartbeat pounding in his ears and his breathing harsh. 

"Can I help you up?" Lightoller asked quietly, not wanting to startle the boy. Mike nodded, allowing the second officer to help him up. "There you go, lad. Deep breaths, that's it." 

A few minutes later, Mike was sitting on a bench, wrapped up in a blanket, Colonel Archibald Grace holding brandy in his hand, with Ted, Max, Steve, and the Master at Arms with them. Lightoller and Moody were also with First Officer William Murdoch, who had heard the yelling as he was coming to start his watch when he heard screaming. 

"This is completely unacceptable! What made you think you could put your hands on my fiancèe?" Max was snapping at El, making Mike wince. Not only was he starting to develop a headache from his crying earlier, but he knew that Max's temper could be easily activated. 

"Max, Max, Max, it was an accident!" Mike defended El, who looked confused. He didn't want El to get in trouble with Max's temper, and he didn't want any of them to find out what he had tried to do.

"Maxine, dear, do calm down," his father drawled, walking over and putting a hand on the fiery redhead's shoulder. "This young girl right here probably had a reason."

"It was an accident, Father," Mike defended, grabbing Ted's arm to gain his attention.

"An accident?" Max asked, completely disbelieving. 

"It was," Mike started to explain, now aware of everyone's eyes on him. He swallowed before starting to lie, "stupid really. I was leaning over and I slipped." At his father and Max's disbelieving looks, along with his father's secretly angry look, he continued to explain, "it was. I was leaning far over to see the uh, uh," he started making swirling motions with his hands, not thinking of the name.

"Propellers?" Ted suggested, gripping his arm.

"Propellers and I slipped," he explained, ignoring the look El was giving him, "and I would have gone overboard, but Miss Hopper here saved me, and almost went over herself." 

"Propellers, he wanted to see the propellers," Ted chuckled, but he chuckled in a way that made Mike shudder as he tried to wriggle his way out of his father's tight grip, and he looked up, seeing that the two officers who had seen him and El, Lightoller, and Moody look disbelieving, and the first officer, Murdoch, looked somewhat disbelieving as well. 

"Was that the way of it?" the Master at Arms asked. 

"Yeah, yeah, that was pretty much it," El replied after seeing the look of desperation in Mike's eyes. 

"Well, the girl's a hero then, well done, miss, well done," Colonel Gracie praised. "So, all is well and back to our brandy, eh?" 

"Look at you, you must be freezing," Ted told Mike, gripping his son's arm tight enough to leave bruises, and Mike winced, small enough but Lightoller still noticed. 

"Perhaps a little something for the girl?" Colonel Gracie suggested with a nod at El, who was putting on her jacket. 

"Ah, Mr. Harrington, I think a $20 should do," Ted said to Steve, who had been standing silently with the officers. 

Mike scoffed. "Is that the going rate for saving your son?" 

Ted rolled his eyes, pushing him backward and gesturing at Max, who quickly walked toward Mike. "Perhaps you could join us for dinner, tomorrow evening, to tell our group with your heroic tale."

El nodded, even though she knew what this was all about. "Sure. Count me in."

Ted smirked. "Good. It's settled then." He turned around and said to Colonel Gracie, "this should be interesting," who laughed. He then walked over to Mike, gripping his arm and leading both him and Max away. 

Steve, who stayed behind, glanced as the officers left, to continue their nightly watches or something. 

"Hey, can I bum a smoke?" El's voice made him turn around and he complied, walking over to her and handing her a lighter and two cigarettes, watching her light one of the cigarettes. 

"Hey, what actually happened?" Steve asked El quietly, who just exhaled a puff of smoke.

El brought the cigarette to her lips, inhaling before exhaling. "He tried to jump off the ship. I don't know why, but after what I just saw, I have an idea why."

Steve sighed, running his hands through his hair. "Yeah, I have one too."

No, Steve Harrington wasn't stupid. He saw how unhappy Mike had been looking the past six months, and he had done nothing to stop it. "Thank you," he spoke quietly, "and here." He handed her the $20 before walking away.

On the bridge, Murdoch came to stand next to Lightoller, who was watching the front bow of the ship as they moved ahead. 

"I have a bad feeling about Ted Wheeler," Murdoch suddenly said, causing Lightoller to look at him. 

"Yeah, me too, and Will, his son had a bruise on his cheek. It was half-hidden, but I know a bruise when I see one," he explained to his colleague and friend, who sighed.

"There's nothing we can do about it, Lights," he told him with a sad tone in his voice. 

Lightoller sighed. "I know."

** - **

Mike sat at his desk, picking up the fallen books and quills, organizing them when the bedroom door open and in walked Max, whose red hair was tumbling like waves down her back, dressed in a nightgown. 

"I know you've been melancholy, and I think I know the reason why, because I've been feeling it too," she told him as she sat down on his bed, holding something in her hands. "Your father asked me to give this to you." Max placed it on his bed before started to head toward the door.

"Wait, Max," he called after her, and she stopped, her hand hovering over the doorknob. "What is it?"

She smiled a bittersweet smile that didn't reach her blue eyes. "You'll see," she responded before leaving, closing the door behind her. 

Frowning, Mike got up and sat down on his bed, picking up the black package, opening it, and gasping when he saw what was in there.

A necklace with a heart-shaped diamond stone in the center. He recognized it immediately.  _ The Heart of the Ocean. _

Closing the box shut, Mike was breathing deeply as he ran his hands through his hair, which was now ungelled. He placed it on his desk and got under the covers, turning off the lamp. He lay there in the darkness, hearing the sound of the waves from the window he opened, trying to drift off to sleep...


End file.
